


Let Me Fuck You With My Heels On

by ragingrainbow



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: BDSM, Cock & Ball Torture, Community: kink_bingo, Crossdressing, Dominance, Friends With Benefits, Kink Bingo 2013, M/M, Painplay, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-09
Updated: 2013-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 23:01:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/919036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ragingrainbow/pseuds/ragingrainbow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“I’ve had fantasies,” Harry says as he breaks the kiss. “You have <i>no</i> idea.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Zayn isn’t all that surprised. “Oh yeah? Like what?”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Like getting fucked by Veronica, maybe? Would that be okay?”</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Fuck You With My Heels On

**Author's Note:**

  * For [janesgravity (janescott)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/janescott/gifts).



> A very late birthday fic for janesgravity (I did promise you'd get one _eventually_ :P).
> 
> This was gonna fill my gender play square for kink bingo but then a bunch of cbt crept in so making it my wildcard instead.
> 
> Big thanks to [s hostagesfic](http://archiveofourown.org/users/hostagesfic) for the Beta. <3

Zayn stares at his reflection, looking for flaws in his make-up. He’s spent the past two weeks practicing every night, to make sure he could do this right. He’s especially thankful for Youtube make-up tutorials; he had even found one for doing Veronica’s make-up specifically.

It looks good. It’s not exactly as perfect as Veronica’s professionally done makeup for the video, but it’s close enough that Zayn feels proud. It’s a little eerie too, in a way, that an hour spent on makeup can provide this much of a transformation.

The wig - the only item he had dared smuggle out of the shoot - was a little tricky, but he thinks it’ll at least stay on straight for as long as it matters. He’s wearing a black pin-stripe skirt and red blouse, which fit well considering the fact that he hadn’t exactly been able to try them on. Luckily he spends enough time shopping for presents for his mum and sisters that his security had not been suspicious of his shopping list. 

He likes the shoes the most though. He hadn’t dared to go with too high a heel, but they are still sexy and he had managed to shake security and fans for long enough to try them on, so they fit comfortably. 

He did have to stuff the bra with socks though, but he bought new ones and spent enough time on it that they don’t look lumpy. He’s hoping Harry won’t want to spend too much time groping his fake cleavage. 

Satisfied that he’s done, he fires off a text to see if Harry’s back from the pool yet. The reply comes quickly; Harry’s jumping in the shower but he’ll leave the door unlocked for Zayn. _Perfect._

Zayn gives it a couple of minutes before he sneaks down the hall - thankfully devoid of people - to Harry’s room. He sits down on the bed, facing the mirror on the wardrobe doors. He spends the next few minutes listening to Harry humming in the shower - it makes him smile, because Harry _knows_ he can hear - while he straightens his clothes and crosses and uncrosses his legs. He feels nervous now; he wanted to surprise Harry but what if he’s wrong, what if Harry won’t be into this at all?

Too late to worry about now though, because Harry’s turned the water off and it only takes a few minutes for him to emerge from the bathroom. He stops dead in his tracks when he spots Zayn, which Zayn takes as a good sign. 

“Wow,” Harry says. “Did you... yourself?”

“I did, yeah. You like it?” Zayn stands up, does a slow turn for Harry, cocks his hips a little for good measure. 

“Are you kidding?! Shit, Zayn, can I?” Harry strides across the room, stopping just in front of Zayn. 

Zayn has no clue what Harry’s asking, but he says yes anyway. What Harry wants to do is kiss him, unbearably softly, tongue barely skimming over Zayn’s lips. Zayn is definitely on board with that. Especially when Harry drops his towel in favour of cupping Zayn’s face, making it easy for Zayn to run his hands over shower-warm skin. 

“I’ve had fantasies,” Harry says as he breaks the kiss. “You have _no_ idea.”

Zayn isn’t all that surprised. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

Zayn presses his skirt-clad thigh in between Harry’s legs, against Harry’s hardening cock. Zayn’s been hard since he started on his make-up, it’s high time for Harry to catch up. 

Harry manages to look both embarrassed and coy, as if fantasizing about your friend in drag is weird (Zayn supposes it is, to be fair), but he also knows that Zayn likes it (Zayn likes most of Harry’s fantasies, honestly). 

“Like getting fucked by Veronica, maybe? Would that be okay?” 

It’s not exactly what Zayn had expected - his expectations had involved more of Harry’s hands getting under Veronica’s skirt and Veronica’s legs over Harry’s shoulders - but it is so much more than okay. 

Zayn scrapes blunt nails along Harry’s spine, bringing his hand to rest against against Harry’s neck. Harry holds completely still, save for a sharp intake of breath. 

“You need to be on your knees?” It’s only half a question; the answer obvious already. But Zayn always prefers for Harry to verbalise it. 

“Yes,” Harry says. “Please.”

Zayn gives him a quick kiss before letting Harry sink to his knees on the carpet. He takes a moment just to admire the view in the mirror - Harry’s bowed spine; his own unfamiliar reflection. He likes the way it looks, the way he towers over Harry differently in the heels, the way his own body looks curvier than usual.

“I could get used to this.” Zayn didn’t really mean to say it out loud, but he doesn’t care if Harry knows. 

“Me too,” Harry murmurs, face still turned towards the floor. 

Zayn brings his foot forward so the toe of his shoe nudges Harry’s balls. Harry gasps, but rocks forward slightly to chase the touch. Zayn leaves his foot there; he needs something to take the edge of his own arousal, and this might just be it. 

“Did I ask for your opinion?” Schooling his voice is always the hardest part for Zayn, but he thinks he does okay, if the way Harry responds is anything to go by. 

“No,” Harry answers, parting his legs a little more, giving Zayn access. 

Zayn presses his toe forward a little, enough to add some pressure. Harry keeps perfectly still. 

“You like this.” Zayn says, pressing his toe down just a little more. 

Harry says nothing, because it wasn’t a question. Zayn catches the way his hands clench behind in his back through the mirror. 

“ _Good_. Move with me.” 

Zayn needs to sit on the bed again, he doesn’t trust his balance on one foot in the heels. Harry shuffles forward on his knees, head still bowed, touching his forehead to Zayn’s knee when Zayn sits down. Zayn strokes his fingers through Harry’s hair. 

“Look at me.” 

Harry does, his gaze focused and sharp. Zayn smiles at him, because he can’t not, not when Harry’s looking at him like he’s just waiting for Zayn’s next command. 

“So good for me,” Zayn murmurs, leaning down so he can kiss Harry as he brings his foot back in between Harry’s legs. 

Zayn doesn’t break the kiss before bringing his toes down on Harry’s balls again, hard enough for Harry to whine against his mouth. Harry tenses against him, fighting the urge to to pull away. But he stays still, and it makes Zayn feel as if he might burst, so he kisses Harry a little harder, pulls on Harry’s hair a little. 

Zayn breaks the kiss when it grows too sloppy; Harry’s valiantly trying to keep up but Zayn’s not holding back anymore so he doesn’t really expect Harry to be able to focus on the kiss. Harry has tears in his eyes when he looks up at Zayn, but he’s being so, so good.

“Enough?” Zayn asks, because he rarely makes Harry actually cry, and when he does he likes to make sure Harry’s completely on board. And it’s not going to take a lot more for Harry to cry for him. 

“No.” Harry sounds choked when he replies, even if Zayn has let up for the moment. “More, _please_.”

“Give yourself a moment.” 

Zayn threads his fingers through Harry’s hair, letting Harry breathe for a moment. He needs the break just as much himself, it’s overwhelming sometimes, the things Harry offer him. These are not even Zayn’s kinks, they’re Harry’s, but the way Harry offers himself up - the way Harry _responds_ \- makes it easy for Zayn to slip into his role and enjoy it. 

He gives them until Harry rocks forward a little before he starts again. 

“Didn’t say you could move,” Zayn reprimands, not bothering to go easy this time. He knows Harry can take it; and if it should be too much, Harry can tap out. 

Harry cries out, shuddering as he tries to keep still. It’s impossible, Zayn knows, but the point isn’t for Harry to actually keep still, but about the fact that he tries so hard for Zayn. 

“So good,” Zayn says, stroking away the tears from Harry’s cheeks with his thumbs. Harry strains against his hold, his gaze growing more unfocused. 

“More?” Zayn asks, because he doesn’t quite trust Harry to tell him stop without being prompted when he loses himself like this. 

Harry’s response is strained and half whimpered, but clear enough. “Yessspleasepleasepleaseplease.” 

Zayn switches tactic, steps his heel down on on Harry’s dick. He lets Harry go as Harry breaks for him. Harry falls forward, his hands moving to protect himself reflexively, as he buries his face in Zayn’s lap, whining and sobbing.

Zayn lets Harry recover at his own pace, stroking his hair and whispering every endearment he can think of as Harry sobs out gasping breaths. He doesn’t know if Harry hears what he’s saying in these moments - there are a lot of things he’ll never call Harry at other times - if he does, it’s not something they speak about. Zayn feels as raw as Harry’s sobs sound, and it’s easy to get lost in the emotions for a while. It used to scare him, until he figured out that he can let himself feel anything like this, without it carrying over into other aspects of their lives. 

Harry’s voice is still thick with tears as he speaks. “I need - can you - please - _Zayn_.” 

“I know,” Zayn says, because somehow he does even if Harry sounds like he doesn’t even know himself. “C’mere.”

Harry comes easily, somehow manages to fold onto Zayn’s lap even if he’s all awkwardly long limbs. Zayn just holds him for a while, kissing along Harry’s collarbone, sucking a tiny bruise onto Harry’s shoulder. 

Harry grows restless quickly, squirming in Zayn’s grasp. Zayn smacks his arse lightly, more playful now than anything, before kissing him. 

Zayn lets them fall onto the bed, still kissing Harry. He rolls over so Harry’s on his back before he has to shift off him to reach the lube on the nightstand. 

Zayn catches their reflection in the mirror before he moves back, and realizes that he wants to _see_. Harry doesn’t question him when he rearranges them so their left sides are to the mirror. He does, however, turn his head towards it to grin knowingly at Zayn through the mirror when he’s done.

Harry’s half hard again already, even if his cock and balls still look tender. Zayn can’t resist running his fingers over them, and Harry whimpers but he thrusts against Zayn’s hand even though it must still be sore.

“Rough, please. Wanna feel you.” Harry says, pressing up against Zayn’s hand. 

“Yeah?” Zayn closes his hand around Harry’s balls as he presses two lubed-slick fingers of his other hand into Harry’s hole, and is rewarded with a choked off whine from Harry. 

“Shit, Zayn.”

“Too much?” Zayn lets up his grip on Harry as he twists his fingers inside him. 

“No, no, it’s _good_ just wasn’t expecting... you’re meaner as Veronica.” 

“Too much talking,” Zayn purrs and presses another finger into Harry. Harry smiles sweetly, rocking against Zayn’s hand, and Zayn seriously needs to get his dick into him right the fuck now. 

Harry seems on board with this idea, because he’s already reaching for the condom, opening the wrapper before handing it to Zayn. Zayn’s happy that he passed on the pantyhose (he shaved his legs, he thinks that’s enough), because that would just have been too much effort to get out of right now.

Zayn wants to be overly liberal with the lube; he’s still a bit afraid of hurting Harry, but he holds back because Harry asked for rough, and Harry has certainly earned his right to get what he wants tonight. 

Harry clings to him when he pushes in, and Zayn kisses him; slow, lingering kisses to try to keep Harry with him even as Harry’s moving impatiently like all he wants is to rut up against Zayn. 

Zayn breaks the kiss when he’s all the way in, looking at them in the mirror when he pulls almost all the way out before fucking back in. Harry whines and pushes back against him, and Zayn can’t tear his eyes away from the mirror as he fucks Harry hard and fast. The way Harry’s face goes slack when Zayn directs him to bring himself off - he might still be sore, but he doesn’t complain - and the way Harry’s legs lock around Zayn’s waist as he rocks back desperately against Zayn. 

But most of all the way Zayn himself looks, Veronica’s skirt up around his waist now, the wig tousled, his blouse falling off one shoulder. His lipstick’s smeared, marks left on Harry’s face and neck, but otherwise his makeup’s holding up well, giving his face the same balance between soft and harsh lines as it had before he sneaked over into Harry’s room. 

His focus is brought back to Harry when Harry comes, Zayn’s name on his lips. He goes boneless under Zayn, and Zayn brings his hands to Harry’s hips, lifts him up a little to give himself a better angle. Harry whines, his fingers gripping at the sheets, but he’s smiling lazily up at Zayn, and that brings Zayn off more than anything else. 

Zayn rolls off of Harry, disposing of the condom - Harry will bitch at him later for dropping it on the floor, but right now he doesn’t care - before pulling Harry close. Harry snuggles against him, accepting kisses and praise and telling Zayn he loves him. Zayn loves Harry right back, not in _that_ way, but that’s not something they need to define anymore, they’re both confident that they love each other the same way, and that’s what matters.

“So, we should do that again.” Harry says eventually. 

Zayn can’t resist sneaking another glance at the mirror. “Yeah, we should.” 

But next time Zayn thinks he might let Veronica sport something other than office wear.


End file.
